Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?
by TheRealityOfFantasy
Summary: This is what happens when I see Frozen and read a bunch of Weechester fanfiction. It's late but Sam wants to build a snowman.


I recently completely fell in love with Frozen and had the idea to write this. Weechesters, Sam is six and Dean is ten.

Enjoy, and please review!

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_"Dad, Dad no please. I don't want to go leave tomorrow. We just got to this town and it's actually not terrible here, and Sammy likes it too. He's never happy anymore and he deserves a break. I want to go to school here and make friends. I'm tired of living in motels and driving all over the country so you can hunt. It scares both of us, Dad." Dean Winchester broke his gaze from his father and peered over to his little brother, sleeping on the hideous floral patterned, stain-covered loveseat a few feet from them. "Whenever you're gone I'm up late with him because he's crying, either because he's scared or he misses you or he's having nightmares or-" John cut him off, leaning down to look his son in the eyes._

_"That's enough. I have a job to do, you know that. I don't want to hear another word." He walked over to the couch and picked the little boy up, who grumbled in response before settling himself against his father's shoulder. John carried him over to a bed and set him down. Dean, unsatisfied with how awkward his brother looked laying crooked on top of the covers, strode over to the side of the bed and pulled the blanket at the foot of the bed up to Sam's chin, then lifted the boy's head to add another flat pillow._

_"Dad, please," Dean began again, only to be interrupted once more by his father._

_"I said that's enough!" John raised a hand as though he was going to swing it across his son's face, but instead backed away after a moment's hesitation. He mumbled a "lock this behind me" before slamming the mold-ridden door to their room. The noise jolted Dean; he felt the ground shudder under his feet and wave up through his body and out his fingertips. He began to feel a bit lightheaded._

_"Dean?" a small voice mumbled behind him._

_"Dean?"_

"Dean?" The older of the two Winchester brothers opened his eyes to see little hazel orbs staring back at him. He realized he had been lost in a dream, and that his father wasn't even home; he hadn't been in three or so days. Glancing down at the floor, he saw the lamp that had been sitting on the nightstand. Sam must've knocked it over and made the sound of the door slamming in his dream.

"Go away," Dean muttered and turned onto his side. Sam responded by sitting on top of his big brother and bouncing.

"Wake up, wake up!" Sam urgently whispered. Even though the boy was wide awake and he and Dean were the only ones in the room, the darkness made him feel as though he had to keep his voice down. Dean was grateful for this if not anything else.

"Sammy, go back to sleep." Dean couldn't help smirking at his innocently adorable baby brother. Despite his cute childish antics, however, he hadn't been getting much sleep lately and didn't feel like running around with a six year old. He gently shoved Sam off of the bed and heard a thud followed by 'ow, my butt…' He chuckled quietly before closing his eyes, pretending to fall asleep. Sam wasn't buying it. He used the blanket that had draped over the side of the bed to pull himself up and then shook Dean's arm.

"Deeeeeaan…"

"Go back to bed, Sammy."

"I can't." He grabbed his brother's face between his chubby little hands and angled it so the drowsy ten year old was squinting at the window.

"Look! The sky's awake. So I'm awake. So we have to play!" He dragged out the last word, collapsing on Dean once more.

"Go play by yourself." Sam frowned and slumped on the bed for a moment, then got up and opened the tattered curtains all the way so the light from the moon reflecting off the snow would fill the room.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Wha…?"

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" Sam saw the silhouette of his brother slowly rise from the bed and push the blankets off. He let out a small cheer before running over to take his coat off the hook. He grabbed Dean's too, throwing it in the general direction of the bed. Dean stuffed his arms into the sleeves and helped Sammy put his gloves on, then proceeded to do the same with his own.

When was the last time the two boys had the chance to play in the snow? Neither could remember. Sure, it was about 1:45am but the town was deserted enough for Dean to decide they were safe, and John wasn't there to yell and drag them back inside. Anyway, Dean knew he wasn't going to win this fight with his little brother so he might as well give in and have some fun. He opened the door and the blast of frigid air stung his face, but it seemed to give little Sammy an even greater burst of energy. Little bundled fingers wrapped around Dean's wrist and dragged him into the cold air of night.

Dean knew Sam wouldn't last long in the cold so he immediately made a snowball and passed it to the little boy. "Here you go Sammy- take this and keep rolling it around in the snow until it's big enough. This is gonna be the bottom part." Sam nodded as though this was very important business and carefully took the delicate orb from his brother, placing it in the snow and pushing it with his fingers. Eventually it began to get bigger and he had to use his whole hand, and then both of them. After a few minutes the little Winchester was pushing a giant snow boulder with his back, putting all of his weight into it.

"Dean! How's this?" He called, out of breath.

"Perfect!" Sam smiled, proud of himself. Dean walked over with a slightly smaller snowball and used all of his strength to heft it on top of the base.

"Alright Sammy, I'm going to go inside to get stuff to decorate it. Start working on the head." Dean ran into the kitchenette of their motel room and gathered a handful of chocolate chips; they would have to do since there was no coal in sight. Arms full, he used his foot to open the door.

"Come help me!" He called out.

No response.

"Sammy?" Still no answer. Dean put the materials down on the small concrete step and was about to begin his frantic search for his brother before he saw a little head poke out from behind what was about to be their snowman.

"Boo!" The little boy yelled, giving a smile. Dean decided it was best not to ruin their fun and yell at him, so he blew off his anger and fear with a small chuckle and walked over to their soon-to-be masterpiece. Sam was holding the snowball for the head and Dean took it, lifting it up to place it on top and complete the snowman's body. He placed two chocolate chips for eyes and used the rest to form a mouth.

"There we go, Sammy. There's your snowman. What do you think?"

"Dean, it's missing something." Sam glared up at the face, contemplating what else it could possibly need. With a shout of 'I know!' he ran back inside, coming back seconds later with a considerably big carrot.

"How could we forget that?" Dean asked, smiling. He picked his little brother up underneath his armpits and let the boy stick the carrot right in the middle of the top snowball, then placed him down to gaze at their creation. Sam tried to smile but it was interrupted by a very loud, long yawn.

"Looks like someone's finally tired. Come on, let's go to sleep." Sam tried to protest, pulling away when Dean grabbed his arm.

"But Dean, our snowman…"

"Don't worry kiddo, he'll still be here in the morning." Satisfied, Sam grabbed Dean's hand and followed him inside. He was too tired to focus on taking off his jacket and gloves so he stood patiently while Dean did all of the work for him.

"Still…not tired…" he tried and failed to convince Dean, who half-carried-half-dragged the little boy to his bed. Dean lifted him into the bed before crawling in next to him. Even though John wouldn't be home for a few days and his bed was empty, both boys felt safer as close as possible.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam's voice was almost inaudible, muffled by yet another yawn.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks…for making a snowman with me…" Dean smiled and ruffled his brother's hair.

"No problem, Sammy."

The two of them faded off to sleep. Sam was thinking about his work of art that his big brother helped him build, Dean thinking about the next snowman they would make together. He didn't see his brother that happy very often, and he wanted to see that cheery, proud smile every day.


End file.
